


staring at the sun

by annakinsun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Force Healing, Fluff, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Holding Hands, I honestly just wanted to write these two having a soft moment and that's about it, M/M, Takes place right before TROS starts for our trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annakinsun/pseuds/annakinsun
Summary: Even from his earliest memories (well, earliest memories that the First Order hadn’t stolen from him), FN-2187 had always known that he was just a little bit different from the rest of his fellow Stormtrooper cadets.Pre-TROS (Like, literally days before it starts) piece about Force-Sensitive Finn and how he may or may not be able to force heal without thinking about it.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 18
Kudos: 391





	staring at the sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first step back into writing fic for maybe a decade, but Finnpoe has been giving me all the feelings lately so I just wanted to write this short and sweet piece to get it off my chest.

_“It’s an instinct…_ **_a feeling_ ** _…”_

—

Even from his earliest memories (well, earliest memories that the First Order hadn’t stolen from him), FN-2187 had always known that he was just a _little bit_ different from the rest of his fellow Stormtrooper cadets. He remembered the way he could often predict the movements of his sparring partners, dodging and parrying every blow they tried to land on him. The way he knew exactly what mood his commanding officers were in that day, and when to steer himself down an opposite hallway to avoid being selected as their training dummy for the day. The way he couldn’t explain how his sparring partners sometimes ended up on the ground without him even touching them, as though an invisible hand had reached out and shoved them over. The way he could feel the heavy presence of sadness and despair gradually build up in one of his fellow cadets, and could pinpoint exactly when said trooper would get pulled for reconditioning to quell any lingering emotions that could result in defection.

The way he couldn’t find it in him to pull the trigger during his first (and only) mission with his squadron because of how the increasing sense of fear and dread washed over him like a wave, causing him to drown in the screams of the terrified villagers before they were quickly silenced with a blaster shot to the back. That same ice cold fear pouring into his veins as he held Slip in his arms, trying to keep him calm as he quickly succumbed to the darkness. An agony so intense it caused him to quiver with nausea the whole way back to base, only to pull his helmet off as soon as he broke rank to take in several deep breaths, trying to cleanse the horror of that first mission. It was something he promised to himself right then he would never do again.

The way he felt that same strong wave crash into him when he saved a pilot from certain execution by the First Order, but this time that wave was warmth and light and promise and _hope._ It was exhilarating and overwhelming and he could barely find the words to form a plan with the source of that light, his brain working overtime to process what was happening, what the man in front of him was saying, and, _stars_ , just how pleasing he was to look at. _You need a pilot. I need a pilot. We’re doing this. Yeah?_ How that warmth seem to burn just a little hotter when said pilot gave him something he never had before: a name. An identity. _Finn._ Even though they were back to back in the stolen TIE Fighter, _Finn_ (what a perfect gift of a name) could feel the ripples of excitement and anxiousness and happiness warming his whole body; could feel the giant smile on the man behind him and just knew his own wide smile matched, like two beams of sunlight shining from the sky above (or was it below? Since they were currently hurtling through space).

The way that warmth was quickly extinguished in a crash landing and a leather jacket missing its owner. It was a strange feeling, being in a scorching desert wasteland, drenched in sweat, sun beating down on his back, and still somehow feeling dreadfully cold and empty. The only way to keep from freezing completely was to hold onto the gift he was just given, the gift that he would treasure forever. _Finn. Finn. Finn. Finn._ He whispered it over and over to himself, trying to emulate some of the heat that he had felt when the name was first spoken. It worked, at first, but slowly died down to a feeling of cooling embers in a fire, those embers extinguished as he had to tell that poor BB-unit how he was unable to save its owner. Then, once he grabbed onto a certain scavenger girl’s hand, he almost felt that same warmth, that same light he felt earlier that day, and somehow knew he was heading in the right direction.

The way _Finn_ (he loved the way that his new name sounded coming off of anyone’s tongue, but nothing compared to the first time he had ever heard it) felt complete darkness and emptiness before turning to seeing Rey being carried off into a First Order ship. And the slight tremor of fear in Han and Chewie as they were marched towards yet another FO carrier ship, not quite as prominent and looming as his own worry of being captured and reconditioned. How quickly that fear was overtaken by something bordering on lukewarm, slowly increasing in heat as a Rebel X-Wing took out the troopers surrounding them, doing loops and circles before taking out at least 20 more troopers. _That’s one hell of a pilot._ And how that warmth once again came back in full force when he made it back to the rebel base, only to set eyes on a familiar pair of brown eyes and a head full of wild curls. Warmth turned into a blazing fire as they collided into a hug, recounting tales of how each had survived. That fire finally made itself known on the outside as well as the inside, cheeks flushing while trying to give his jacket back to its original owner. _Keep it, it suits you._ His whole face ablaze with a feeling he just couldn’t quite name. If only he could feel like this forever.

He had chalked it up to good instincts and gut feelings more times than he could count, but as each occurrence happened, he started to think. _What if… it’s more?_ He never spoke of it to anyone, and would play it off on coincidence if ever questioned on how he was so good at picking up on others’ feelings or knowing when something went wrong on a mission he was not a part of. But, as he heard how Rey spoke of it in her holovids to him while training with Luke Skywalker (not a myth!) on Ahch-To, or when General Organa regaled them with stories of her own touch of the Force… as his time in the Resistance progressed, he gradually began to concede that _maybe_ it was more than just luck. But still he kept it quiet, waiting until they weren’t in the face of certain death and waiting for a time when he could tell others without feeling like a hassle or a liability who could be a fraud. He knew there were still some that thought he would turn back to the First Order, he didn’t want to give them more reason to fear him. So, for now, he stayed quiet.

He had kept it to himself this long. He could wait until the end of this war.

—

It had now been almost a year since Finn first got his name. Since he met the two people who meant the most to him in the galaxy, hell, the _universe._ They had only grown closer with every mission they had gone on, every meal that they shared, every quick trip in the Falcon to pick up supplies for base. Finn couldn’t believe how lucky he was to not only have made one, but two best friends who he knew would do anything for him, just as he would do the same for them. How lucky he was that, even with all the death and destruction they’d faced, they’d all somehow made it to this moment here on Ajan Kloss, and were still able to keep fighting for the Resistance and each other.

He was currently toward the back of basecamp, working with Commander D’Acy to create a strategy on when and where he and Poe would be meeting with an informant to retrieve a message about a potential spy in the First Order. Poe had left early that morning with the rest of the Black Squadron, off to a smaller planet in the Cademimu sector to respond to an offer of more troops and supplies General Organa had received a transmission on about two days earlier. While wary of being double-crossed and exposed to their enemies, they had to take the risk in order to bring up their numbers. They were down to the last dregs of the Resistance, which had originally been large enough to spill out of their base on D’Qar, but was now down to a group which could easily squeeze into the Falcon. 

It wasn’t unusual for Poe to go off without Finn, especially when he had the rest of the Black Squadron in tow and it was just supposed to be a relatively easy mission. The same had gone for Rey when she left to train with Luke on Ahch-to, and now when she went off into the jungle on Leia’s training exercises. That didn’t stop Finn from always being just a little bit worried, wondering about them and if they were okay until they were safely back in his sight. 

It didn’t help that about halfway through the day, as he was grabbing a cup of caf from the mess tent, he was hit with an excruciating blast of pain in his upper left shoulder, causing him to drop the cup and spill the caf he had just grabbed all over the ground. He hissed through his teeth as someone asked if he was alright and what had happened (maybe it was Klaud, he couldn’t concentrate over the searing pain in his arm), but when he finally felt some relief from the pain and looked at his arm, he could see nothing out of the ordinary. Unsure of what the cause was, Finn tried to shake the feeling that something was wrong, and waved off the concern of those around him as he picked up his cup and left the tent.

The brief stitch of pain subsided into a dull ache, but the ocean of anxiety that came with it stayed sharp and stinging the rest of the day. He still didn’t know what was the cause of it, but it was enough to keep him pacing around the base camp for the next hour and a half, looking for something or someone to distract him from the unexplained feeling of worry that continued to sit in his stomach. With Rey off training with Leia, Chewie waving him off while he tried to nap on the Falcon, and the entirety of the Black Squadron being gone, he was unsure of what to do to keep himself occupied. He remembered Rose was doing maintenance on some of the older ships they had in the air field, so he left to go find her and keep her company (and if it was more for his own sake than hers, who would know).

Once he got to the landing field, however, he realized he had missed the Black Squadron’s arrival by only a few minutes. Finn felt the tight knot of anxiousness start to dissipate once he saw Poe’s X-Wing, although the pilot, nor his faithful droid, didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby. Finn’s eyes scanned the field, looking for that familiar head of loose curls, but couldn’t make them out anywhere. In his searching, he locked eyes with Snap, who immediately held his gaze and gave him a short head tilt, beckoning Finn over to him. He didn’t look morbid, but Finn could feel the waves of stress pouring off of him, more than he normally felt after the Black Squadron went on routine missions.

The pit in his stomach immediately hardened once more as he quickened his pace and made a bee-line to Snap. Something had to have happened.

“Finn, before you freak out-“

“Where’s Poe? Is he okay? What happened?”

“Finn, he’s okay. We made it to the old Rebel base almost immediately after landing. What we didn’t know was, even though it hasn’t been found by the First Order, it’s been overtaken by some of the locals. We were trying to explain why we were there and how we weren’t going to hurt them, and I guess Pava was giving off a stronger “I-want-to-kill-you” vibe than normal. She took a step to lean in closer, and one of the locals panicked, drew a blaster, and fired at her. Well, you know Dameron and his quick reflexes, he stepped in front of it and it hit him in the shoulder. They ceased fire and took off immediately when they realized that all of us were armed, we got the rations we were looking for, and got out. He’s okay, and Jess immediately took him to the med tent to get checked out.” Snap grabbed Finn’s arms to steady him; he didn’t realize he had been shaking until just this moment. He felt the calmness in Snap’s touch, like someone had tried to place a weighted blanket around his shoulders, but it did nothing to slow his quickened breathing. “Finn, he’s going to be fine.”

Finn inhaled deeply, trying to keep from panicking, shot Snap a quick “Thanks” with a brief nod of the head, and raced to the med tent. It was probably only a minute walk to the makeshift tent they had set up, give or take, but it felt like hours with all the thoughts swirling around his head. _How bad is it? What if there’s permanent damage? What if we’re out of bacta? What if he loses his arm? Will he be able to fly again if he loses a hand?_

Every thought disappeared from his head as he rounded an old A-Wing and nearly collided with Jess. She looked at him with a smirk, but was uncharacteristically quiet as she gave him a small smile while tilting her head to the side, motioning for him to go in and see Poe. He barely registered her giving him a quick pat on arm, save for the small, alternating pulses of relief and worry he felt bouncing off of her, before turning up the flap and seeing _him._ Even exhausted, injured, and slightly shaken, the fiery warmth was as strong as ever, heating up as Poe turned to look at him with a beaming smile. “Hey buddy.” _Stars,_ he was gorgeous.

Dropping onto the cot next to him, Finn grasped at Poe’s arm while muttering worriedly without realizing what he was doing before he heard a slight hiss. “ _Kriff_ , I’m so sorry Poe.” He let go of his tight grip on Poe’s arm, but kept his hand pressed gingerly above Poe’s elbow, gently brushing his the tip of his thumb below the wound. His left hand made its way to Poe’s face before he could think twice about it, the gentle way he cupped his cheek a stark contrast to the words that he couldn’t seem to keep from falling off his tongue.

“Are you alright? What happened? What were you thinking? Next time I’m coming with you, I don’t care if-“

Poe, gazing softly into Finn’s eyes with a grin, put a calloused right hand softly over Finn’s mouth to stop him. “Finn! Buddy! Relax, please. It’s okay, I’m okay. Just a small scratch, I’ll be back to normal in no time.” Poe’s easy smile played across his lips as he pretended to flex his left arm, but disappeared with a sharp intake of breath betraying how painful the wound actually was. Finn rolled his eyes, his worry finally starting to dissipate, but only slightly once he looked at the arm and realized that the wound hadn’t been treated yet.

“That’s not a small scratch. Where’s Kalonia? You need bacta. Do we have enough bacta? I can go on a run to get some.” His eyes were scanning every inch of the tent, looking for bags of the substance he knew all too well from his days in recovery on the _Raddus_. His attention was only drawn back to Poe when he felt a warm hand cover his own, still holding onto Poe’s arm, and heard a chuckle that could only be described as melodious and wonderful and, if he was being honest, his favorite kind of music.

“Finn, I promise it’s going to be okay. Kalonia went off to grab an extra bag of bacta, she’ll slab it on and it’ll be good as new. Hell, it’s not even hurting any-” Poe stopped abruptly. Concern immediately splayed across Finn’s face as he followed Poe’s gaze to the arm he had been holding onto so tenderly, as though to make sure it didn’t fall off. There was a heavy pause as they stared at Poe’s arm, where the skin and muscle from the blaster wound was no longer torn. In fact, it looked as though the damage had never been inflicted in the first place.

They both sat in silence a moment long, Finn still holding his gentle but firm grasp on Poe’s arm, neither quite sure as to what had happened. Poe broke the silence first.

“How… that’s impossible… unless…”

Finn finally looked up from the tanned stretch of unbroken skin into Poe’s eyes, which were wider than he’d ever seen before. “Finn,” he breathed, “…you…did you do that?”

Finn inhaled deeply and held it for a moment, scared to say what he had wanted to confess for so long. Then exhaled. “I… I think so… I didn’t even know I was doing it. It didn’t feel any different than what I normally feel.”

“Wait… what do you mean ‘didn’t feel any different than normal’? Finn, have you… do you… are you _Force sensitive??_ Since when? How long have you known?” Finn, for all the times he had been able to feel every emotion from the man in front of him, was for the first time at a loss. He couldn’t make out what that look was on Poe’s face, but he was in too deep now. He took in another deep breath, grabbed onto Poe’s hand to anchor himself to that moment, and dove in.

“I think I’ve always kind of known.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to think of me any differently... I didn't want you to be scared of me. After everything you went through with Kylo Ren on the _Finalizer,_ the nightmares he gave you… and especially since I wasn’t even sure if I actually was or not, I didn’t want to make it into a whole thing. I figured I could talk to Rey or Leia after this was all over if it was still there, I guess. It’s not that big of a deal.”

He felt Poe’s fingers lace between his, his other hand coming around to latch onto the back of Finn’s neck. “Not that big a deal? Finn, you just _healed_ me like it was nothing. Can you imagine what else you could do if you had Rey or Leia there to teach you? I mean, I always knew you were special but _stars_ Finn… I can’t believe I’m best friends with yet _another_ Jedi.”

Finn snorted at the remark, playfully shoving Poe on his newly healed arm. “Shut up.”

Poe pulled his hand away from Finn’s neck (his skin instantly freezing without that fiery hand holding him in place), but immediately grabbed for the hand he wasn’t already holding, and pulled both of Finn’s hands into his lap. They both quieted, Finn back to being unsure of all the emotions he was feeling coursing through his best friend’s head. Poe stared down at their hands for a short while, rubbing his thumbs over the smooth patches of the backs of Finn’s hands, before whispering, “Seriously, thank you for that. Thank you for… everything.”

As Finn was trying to quiet his rapidly beating heart and breathe as normally as possible while thinking of what to say next, Poe leaned forward slightly and rested his forehead against Finn’s. It was as though he were staring into the face of the sun, his whole body blazing with the kindness, gratitude, fondness, happiness, and _love_ he could feel radiating off of Poe. Finn let his eyes look down once more at their interlocked hands, and slowly smiled before closing his eyes and letting himself relax into the touch.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Have a Merry Christmas <3


End file.
